5 plus 1: The Doctor's Hand
by UltimateGryffindork
Summary: 5 times the Doctor's hand was used incorrectly, and 1 time it wasn't. Written for TorchwoodFest Day 4: The Doctor's Hand


**1: Tosh**

It had been a particularly stressful day for Toshiko Sato. A wayward cup of coffee, spilling all over the keyboard, had managed to make its way past even the Torchwood firewalls and had destroyed the vast majority of the files on her laptop, leaving only Solitaire and her files on Weevil allergies intact. She'd only just managed to salvage the personnel files, and that was because she'd programmed the computer to print off any essential files that were about to be deleted.

This had caused a bit of an issue.

The average Torchwood employee had, at minimum, a five-page file, containing all of their personal details, the personal details of anyone who was or ever had been close to them outside Torchwood (living or dead), and a complex history of everything (or, in Jack's case, every _one_ ) they'd ever done.

Paper was all well and good, but when your fancy secret base had a draught, it could cause some problems.

Unless…

Yes, that worked well. Not the most visually appealing of paperweights, but this was Torchwood, thought Tosh. A detached hand certainly did the job of keeping her papers flat.

 **2: Owen**

"Where is it?!"

It wasn't unusual for Jack Harkness to be running around in a mad panic, so he was, on the most part, ignored.

"Where's what?" Owen heard Gwen ask Jack.

"The hand, where's the hand!"

Ah.

Shrugging, Owen carried on with dissecting the space goldfish on the table in front of him. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted now. He had one hand inside an enormous gill that seemed to be meant to absorb radiation. He glanced towards the Geiger counter on the countertop, making sure that he was still within safe levels, and picked up the scalpel, gently peeling away some of the fish's strangely leathery scales.

"Owen! Have you seen it?"

"No, Jack, sorry," he replied absentmindedly, quickly picking up a vial to catch the strange purple goo that seemed to be oozing out of the fish's nostril.

Assuming that that _was_ its nostril.

As Jack careered off, still yelling and turning the Hub upside down, Owen glanced towards the cupboard with the dodgy door that contained his samples of non-identified, non-humanoid alien life. It would be a while before Jack came back to search through the autopsy bay, he decided; the hand could prop it open a little bit longer.

 **3: Ianto**

It wasn't really Ianto's _fault_ , not if you really thought about it. They weren't allowed coffee near the computers after The Incident; and it wasn't like Ianto wanted to be reminded of that eighty-three page document listing all of Jack's former relationships – although it had made for interesting reading, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't drawn some… inspiration from the list. He'd tried leaving the coffee on Gwen's desk, but she had a thing about mug rings, which Ianto personally found very out of character, but it wasn't worth fighting with Gwen over something so trivial. Every time he'd tried to put in a new coffee table Jack would trip over it on his "route that I always walk every single morning and absolutely cannot have blocked off".

Every flat surface in the Hub seemed to be covered in some form of paperwork or futuristic artefact or alien samples, and the few that weren't Ianto refused to put his mug of coffee down on because he knew what _else_ had been there. (He also knew that scrubbing said areas never really helped, but did draw attention to the fact that certain surfaces had been used for certain recreational activities.)

So really, when he thought about it, putting a mug of coffee on the top of a case containing a severed hand? Really the best case scenario. No one would dare trip over it, and there was space on the top there for a paperback or a small plate of biscuits along with the mug. Perfect for when he got there early or stayed late, and he and Jack weren't – ahem – engaged elsewhere.

 **4: Suzie**

It was perfectly normal to want to put your feet up at the end of the day. When you come back from chasing weevils and God knows what else, it's nice to be able to rest.

At least, that's what Suzie Costello told herself.

Admittedly, most people didn't put their feet up _on top of a severed hand_ – but then, again, Torchwood wasn't most people. And if she didn't think about it, she didn't get creeped out by it. She'd even taken to covering it with a piece of cloth, both to kid herself that there wasn't someone else's hand reaching for her ankle, and to hide it from Jack.

What an odd man he must be.

 **5: Gwen**

Gwen was enjoying a well-deserved coffee break when the red lights started flashing and the alarms started sounding. 'Complete lockdown' was a much more common occurrence than any of the others would admit to, but after the third time this month it was starting to lose its impact.

"Janet's on the loose!" Jack shouted up from downstairs. "Owen, lock the door properly next time!"

"Alright, alright," Owen groaned from where he was slouched on the sofa, "I'll lock it next time, okay!"

"Too late for that!" Jack called back, as a series of crashes came from the vaults.

"I'd better go and help," Ianto sighed, putting down the tray of coffee and going to join Jack in the vaults. He turned around in the doorway, though, as an angry weevil came careering towards him.

"Bloody hell!" Gwen yelled as they all ran for cover, Janet barrelling through the centre of the Hub, sending things flying.

"You're all useless!" Jack screamed. "What are you, twelve? You're Torchwood, help me out here!" He was still chasing Janet, a nasty gash on his cheek frantically trying to heal itself. Janet came running – or galloping, or limping, or whatever it was weevils did – back up to the centre of the Hub, right towards where Gwen was hiding, so she grabbed the nearest heavy object and –

WHACK.

Slowly clambering out of their hiding places, the team gathered around the unconscious Weevil.

"Wow," said Tosh, impressed. "Good shot, Gwen."

"Wait a second," said Jack, looking suspiciously at the case still in Gwen's hand. "Is that - "

"I just knocked out a rogue weevil, Jack," Gwen said warningly. "I wouldn't criticise my methods if I were you."

"She's got a point," Tosh and Owen mumbled in synchronicity.

Jack only sighed. "I'll pretend I didn't notice. THIS TIME. But remember; respect the hand."

And he stalked off, the others rolling their eyes at his back, still standing over the unconscious Janet.

 **+1: Jack**

Captain Jack Harkness had a lot of secrets, but perhaps the worst-kept one was that he loved the Doctor. Loving someone who could change faces, though, was not usually a particularly good idea.

Jack wasn't even a particularly patient person, but he'd waited over a hundred years for one man.

It was never hard to work out where the Doctor had been. He left behind an undisguisable trail of chaos and broken hearts and saved lives. A star appears over London on Christmas Day and mysteriously disappears again? Jack didn't have to be a genius to work out what that meant. He'd tried to get there, of course, but the journey from Cardiff to London took well over two hours at the best of times – ninety minutes if he ignored all of the speed limits. The star was gone when he got there, as was the Tardis, but –

But there was a hand.

It was all Jack had, but he took it, knowing instantly what it was, and took it straight back to Cardiff. It was a testament to the regenerative powers of the Time Lords that it stayed fresh – if oozing blood and looking slightly creepy on the passenger seat – for the whole journey back.

It wasn't much, but it was enough for Jack. It was a reminder that the countdown was almost over, that it wouldn't be long now before the Doctor would come back for him once again.

It was a reminder of why he was there, in Torchwood; of what he was fighting for. And of what he was waiting for.

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review letting me know what you thought :)**


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